Chapter 2: The Royal Capital

We disembarked at the port of King's Landing without any fanfare.

The day was brighter by the time we reached the dock. Wisps of smoke rose from the many chimneys as the city began to awaken. All the while, our men were busy doing whatever they needed to dock a ship, throwing anchors and fastening ropes here and there.

I yawned. This little body disagreed with the early hour, it seemed.

Father, flanked by one of his captains, walked onto the deck.

"We will split the men." He announced

"Captain Stephas, I will leave thirty men under your command to guard our ships. For the sailors, set their shift so that a third of them remain on the ships at all times, in case we need to depart quickly." Father said. "Make sure to always be ready for any emergency. The rest of the guards will accompany us to the Red Keep."

I observed as the men obeyed Father. It spoke to the familiarity of the orders when they all did it swiftly but not hastily.

"All this caution seems unwarranted." I said to my mother. "It was unlikely someone would try to seize us on King's Landing." I added.

"Perhaps. Yet the ability to leave port posthaste when necessary had saved your father's life on more than one occasion, during his travels." Was Mother's answer. "One should always prepare for any possibility beforehand." She said.

Once the gangplank was lowered, four Velaryon knights armored in full plate descended first to secure our family from the threat of half-awake fishermen and dockhands before the Velaryons walked down the plank. Father and Mother, then Laenor, then Laena and me. More than a score of men-at-arms were trailing behind us, armoured in mail and brigandine, armed with halberds and crossbows. The silver seahorse on sea-green was visible on their shields and tabards and banners. Two more knights kept to the rear.

We barely made our way to the city gate when we noticed a group of a half-dozen armoured men ahorse, carrying two banners of red dragons on black. A knight with a polished steel plate and three spirals on his shield seemed to be their leader.

A Massey.

The Massey knight approached our group and tipped his head. "Lord Velaryon." He said. "His grace bids me to welcome you to the city, and to safely escort you to the Red Keep."

Father schooled his expression. "I see we are expected. Best if we don't keep his grace waiting for long, then."

The knight nodded. "It won't be a problem. We brought some spare horses for your retinue and a carriage for your children."

Father accepted the offer. Soon enough, more than a score of armoured men made their way through the harbor and the gate northward into the keep.

We passed through many groups of fishermen on their way to their ships. Merchants set up their stalls and peddled their wares. Washerwomen moved from here and there, carrying baskets of clothes. A small squad of city watchmen was moving on patrol.

"The city was built on three hills." Mother said. Mother and Laena had chosen to take the carriage with me instead of riding like Father and Laenor, perhaps not wanting to leave little Corwyn alone. "Named after the three conquerors. The Red Keep was built atop Aegon's hill."

"What is this place we're going through?" I asked.

"The gate we went through is called the River Gate, though everyone here calls it the Mud Gate. Past that is Fishmonger's Square. Can you guess why the place is called such, Corwyn?"

I shrugged. "Because that's where the city's smiths live?"

Mother just huffed at my poor attempt at humour. At least Laena giggled at my joke, so I considered that a small victory.

According to Mother, a census done early in the reign of King Jaehaerys put the population of the city at well over two hundred thousand. Only Oldtown and Lannisport were greater, and for Lannisport, it was barely. Considering the long years of peace and prosperity afterwards, it wouldn't be a surprise if the city had surpassed three hundred thousand souls and now was second only to Oldtown in all the realms. Another century, and perhaps King's Landing would surpass even Oldtown.

On our way, we saw a great many candles from the Great Sept lined the streets and in front of houses. That was a testament to how greatly the citizens of King's Landing loved King Jaehaerys and mourned his passing.

With dragon banners flying high, our party passed unopposed through the city. It didn't take long to go from the harbor to Red Keep, for the castle was built close to the bay. The closer we were to the castle, the better the houses were. I reckoned this was where the city's upper class—the nobility and wealthier merchants—lived.

Laena nudged me. "Now that we're finally here, what do you think of the Red Keep, little brother? Impressed yet?" She asked as our party approached its tall curtain walls.

I tilted my head. "That it was a keep and also red?" There wasn't much to see of the castle from outside its walls, save for the peak of its towers. I thought it was slightly wider than High Tide, though High Tide was generally higher.

Laena looked genuinely baffled. "Truly? I always believe it's closer to brown than red."

As we moved closer to the Red Keep, it became more obvious how strong it was as a fortification. I was hardly an expert in siege warfare, but I had read extensively on the topic of castles and fortresses. I thought it was a necessity, considering the importance of castles in Westerosi warfare and history.

As far as I could see, not even five thousand men could take the Red Keep from two hundred save through starvation. The steep walls, deep moats, and many arrowslits and machicolations would exact their bloody toll on anyone foolish enough to assault them.

The drawbridge was down, and the portcullis opened. The leader of our escort greeted the guards standing outside the gate, and we were allowed entry.

"Are you alright, brother? You seemed unwell."

All of us dismounted once we got inside. I'm grateful for the chance to stretch my legs, though Laenor looked like he just swallowed something sour.

"Nothing." He huffed. "My arse was just bruised from the ride here. Father should've let me ride the carriage instead."

I snorted.

We continued making our way inside the Red Keep. I thought we'd be meeting the king inside the throne room. Instead, the Massey knight brought us deeper inside the keep, across another wall and through another drawbridge over a dry moat, to the keep inside a keep. Maegor's Holdfast, named so after the cruel king under whose orders it was raised, and the men who built it were butchered.

What a keep. Our own abode looked almost humble in comparison. No blood of a single mason spilled for the construction of High Tide.

I must admit, I was excited. This would be the first time I'd met a king in either life. I kept my excitement from showing on my face, however. I liked to present a stoic front.

We saw a stout man standing in the hall of Maegor's Holdfast, accompanied by an elderly knight in white armour as they talked at length about something.

He looked up as he noticed our approach and smiled warmly.

"Ah, Corlys. Rhaenys. It's been a long time."

Is this the king?

He was a handsome enough man, despite his plumpness, and somewhat younger than I expected. He was likely younger than even Mother, I thought. His silver hair, moustache, and beard were all kept short, and his face was bright.

"Aemma asked me to send her regards. She feels unwell this morning, and Rhaenyra is tending to her." He said. "She regrets not being able to welcome you in person."

That wasn't a problem, as the King had done a good job of doing two people's worth of welcome. He greeted each of us warmly. He clasped my father's hand and hugged my mother. He gave Laenor a thump on the shoulder and praised Laena's beauty.

"Ah, and this handsome lad must be your second son. Corwyn Velaryon, isn't it?"

He finally made his way to me, and my many, many courtly etiquette lessons took over my body.

"Indeed, Your Grace." I bowed deeply. "I'm honoured that the king knows my name."

He raised his eyebrows. "A polite one. I see the both of you are as strict as ever." He inspected me for a bit before smiling. "I'm sure you will grow into a strapping young man someday, lad."

That done, he gave me a strong pat on the back before returning to my parents.

"I already have the suitable rooms prepared for you as soon as we hear of your ships on the horizon. Your old room is still kept well ordered as always, Rhaenys, and your children can stay in nearby rooms."

My mother curtsied. "I'm grateful for your hospitality, Your Grace."

"However," she added, "Before we could settle into our room, I must ask you something else." She said. "How was Grandfather in his last moment?"

King Viserys' smile turned into a sorrowful frown. He was a man who wore his heart on his sleeve, it seemed. "He had been bedridden for a few years by now, and yet it came as a surprise how sudden it was. One day he went to sleep and never woke up."

The king was silent for a while.

"It was a peaceful death, the Grand Maester told me. Otto's girl was the one who accompanied him in his last moments. She told me she was reading to him before that final sleep."

Mother took a moment before responding. "I see." She said. "I regret I wasn't present in his final moments. When will his funeral be held?"

"The funeral would be done midday tomorrow. Almost all of the Crownland lords are already present, along with a fair few from other regions." The king said, "The ceremony will be done in the Great Sept, though the cremation will be outside the city walls."

It was the Targaryen burial custom to cremate their dead. Dragons were meant to burn, they said, and so were their riders. A custom brought from Valyria. However, as the Faith of the Seven didn't have a strict rule on how to dispose of the dead, many of the Westerosi houses also shared the custom.

"His ash will be sent to Dragonstone, where Grandmother is. I thought it's right to have them put to rest together." He continued.

Father and Mother talked a bit more with the King after that until his many royal duties compelled him to finally leave, though not before the promise of a dinner was given. He gave me another hearty thump on my shoulder as he passed me.

As the king and his kingsguard left, we Velaryons made our way to our rooms. The servant sent to escort us was more formality than anything, as Mother still remembered her old home well.

"The King was a pleasant man." I said

We were inside one of the rooms provided to us. It was richly decorated with a fine Volantene tapestry and some excellent Myrish carpet. The window by the eastern wall overlooked a small garden of sorts, and the flowers and trees below added a touch of nature.

This is the room I would share with Laenor during our stay.

"Viserys has always been good at charming men to his cause." Father said, his tone light, though there was a slight bitter look in his eyes. It was that talent that won him the Great Council, to the dismay of my house.

Though I suspected that not even my father could bear to hate Viserys for long.

My thoughts were interrupted when Father spoke, breaking the silence.

"I would be amiss to not warn you," Father said. "Always be careful of what you say. Red Keep's walls have eyes and ears. This is not like our home, where you might do whatever you please."

I held back my laugh. Since when were we allowed to do whatever we pleased?

"We understood, Father." Laenor replied. "Now that we're here, what else should we do? I doubt you'd have us idle."

"For now? Clean yourself. I will not have it said that my sons look and smell like a pair of vagabonds."

I smelled my armpit. It wasn't so bad.

"After that, who knows? Perhaps I'll bring you to speak with some of the present lords. That must wait until after the funeral is done, however, so you'll have the time."

Father stared at me in the eye. "For you, Corwyn, remember this will be your first introduction to the rest of the realm. Make sure you represent the house well."

I gave my father a salute. Once he was certain we took his lecture to heart, he left the room to ourselves.

"Father was being intense again," I said.

"Of course he is. You should know the reason well by now," Laenor said, before he let out a big yawn. "Gods, I'm tired. This is why I dislike it if someone interrupts my sleep."

We spent a few minutes just lying there in silence. I laid on my back with my eyes on the unfamiliar ceiling, and Laenor had his head under a soft feather pillow.

Slowly, I turned my head toward Laenor.

"So, do you want to use the bath first or...?"

The King supped with us that night.

A platter of roasted beef was the main course, along with veined white cheese, an asparagus salad, and creamy mushroom soups as companions. For dessert, we have a large orange tart big enough for two slices for each of us. The best vintages Westeros had to offer, which meant most of them were from the Reach, were also available.

Not like it mattered to me, as I was only allowed half a cup to drink, and even that was watered down.

Unlike before, the king brought with him his wife and daughter. Queen Aemma Arryn was a granddaughter of King Jaehaerys, which would also make her a cousin of my mother.

Aemma Arryn was beautiful, in the classical Valyrian way. Finely beaten silver-gold hair and rich purple eyes. Her figure remained slim and elegant, and she bore a sense of quiet dignity. She certainly fit the image of a queen in my head.

Though she didn't look all that robust to me, it must've been her sickness.

"I'm glad your sickness has come to pass." Mother said.

The queen waved Mother's concern. "Oh, Rhaenys, it's just the weather. I will not let something as trifling as the weather of all things stop me from receiving you."

"That may be so, and yet I urge you to take more care of your health regardless. The amount of sickness seemed to always increase whenever the season changed."

I wasn't sure if they were genuinely close or not, but the Queen at least made an effort to endear us to the Royal family, and my mother seemed to be enjoying their small talks.

They spoke at length about all sorts of things. The marriage and birth of various highborn, old friends they haven't met in years, the trade between Westeros and Free Cities, and even which sleeves were the most fashionable this year.

My father was having his own conversation with the king, though it was hard for me to hear what they were talking about as they sat further away.

"You're right, of course. Your kin are always eager to meet with your children." The queen said.

My mind immediately returned from its wandering. It seemed that Mother had seen fit to make us the topic of their conversation.

"I see you brought your youngest boy too." She gave me a beautiful smile. "I remember you've written of him several times before, though you hadn't mentioned his good looks. Why hadn't you brought him to court before?"

"We simply hadn't had much of a chance." Mother took a glance at me. "Well, Corwyn. Will you speak for yourself?"

You're not doing me any favor, Mother.

I looked up from my oxtail soup. Quick. How were you supposed to respond to an older woman calling you handsome again?

"The queen is gracious with her praise, though I must admit doubt. All boys look handsome when they're five."

Ah, damnation. That was too formal and self-deprecating. And I was basically accusing her of being a liar!

Queen Aemma, thankfully, only responded with a laugh. "No need to doubt, child. It was not idle praise." She said. "Handsome and intelligent too. Laena, Laenor, Corwyn. The gods have blessed the Velaryons with three beautiful, clever children when most houses would be grateful for one."

Mother smiled in return. "Thank you for your praise, Aemma, but you know you're no less blessed. After all, the gods give you Rhaenyra." My mother shifted her gaze to Rhaenyra. "A beautiful princess for a beautiful queen. The entire realm will celebrate your beauty one day, child."

Hmm, now they're doing one of those back-and-forth compliments.

Rhaenyra, who had spent the dinner mostly silent, muttered something that might be a 'thank you'.

The meals continued for some time afterward. However, neither Father nor Mother had finished with their conversation after the dessert was served.

"Well! That was quite an engaging conversation." The king began. "I loathe to leave the conversation half-done, but unfortunately, the night waits for no man."

Queen Aemma hummed. "The night is still young, dear. Perhaps we can continue our talks for a bit longer." She said. "We still have a lot of things to catch up on, don't we?"

I had a suspicion about where this was going.

Father caught Mother's eyes, and they had one of those silent conversations again. Likely contemplating leaving the kids outside so the adults could finally have their important talks.

"I'd be delighted to. However, it's a little late for the children, and they must be tired from their voyage. Perhaps it's best for them to retire tonight." Mother said.

Queen Aemma smiled sweetly. "Of course, how thoughtless of me. Rhaenyra, be a dear and help our guests to their rooms, will you?"

Rhaenyra smiled as she rose from her seat and curtsied. Laena followed suit, while Laenor caught my eyes as he signaled me to stand as well.

As we left the hall, I spared a glance at my parents.

Four silver-haired children made their way inside Maegor's Holdfast.

Rhaenyra walked in ahead alongside Laena, talking animatedly with my siblings. Now that we were no longer under our parents' watchful eyes, we could afford to be less proper.

Meanwhile, I took the time to study the princess.

She was the only daughter of King Viserys, which normally would make her his heir until a son was born, as most Westerosi noble houses followed a male-preferred primogeniture. Had that been all, I wouldn't be surprised if my parents schemed to marry her to Laenor. Laenor would be the prince-consort then, and Velaryons would continue their ascent.

However, since both Kings Jaehaerys and Viserys skipped over their female relatives in succession, it was rumoured that Viserys' brother would be his heir until the queen gave him a son.

In that case, marrying her to Laenor would still serve a purpose; royal ties counted for a lot, as that was the easiest way to earn the royal favour. Velaryons had been the closest house to the Targaryens since before the Conquest, and strengthening the ties between our houses would benefit both.

That cinched it. Laenor would marry Rhaenyra.

Now that I thought about it, both Rhaenyra's father and mother were my mother's first cousin, which would make her my second cousin twice over. Such a thing would be strange in any family, though it wasn't that strange for the nobility to marry between cousins.

Of course, the Targaryens took it a bit further than your average Westerosi, but it was neither here nor there.

On our way down, we passed another tall, silver-haired man. His black tunic was decorated with a three-headed dragon over the breast, and he had the look of aloof disinterest as he sauntered across the hallway as if he owned the place. His right hand was casually put on the hilt of his sword, as if he were contemplating murder.

Another Targaryen?

"Uncle!"

The man stopped as he heard Rhaenyra's call and approached us. He was a handsome man, with high cheekbones and a strong jaw. His silver hair was kept at shoulder length, and he had the build of a swordsman: tall and lean.

Something in the way he looked at us made me uneasy, however.

"Rhaenyra." He said, ruffling her hair. "I see you brought some friends."

"Yes, uncle. The Velaryons just arrived this morning. The Lord and Lady Velaryon are still in the feast hall, talking with Father and Mother."

"This morning? No wonder I haven't heard of it." He said. "I was so busy with my duty that I even missed the supper again." He lamented.

What duty was that?

The prince shifted his attention to us as me and my siblings gave quick bows and a curtsy. "I remembered two of them, of course. However,"

He looked at me with a slightly less disinterested look. "I don't know who's the little one. Are you another of Corlys' get?"

I tilted my head. "My name is Corwyn Velaryon, Your Grace. I'm his youngest child."

He quirked an eyebrow. "I see. In that case, I hope you'll enjoy your time here, boy."

Then he left us and continued on his way without a care in the world.

The family was breaking our fast together in one of the many dining halls inside Maegor's Holdfast.

"That would be Prince Daemon, the younger brother of Viserys." Mother said. "Viserys wanted to have him join our talks, but he disappeared without telling anyone for most of the day and immediately went to his chamber upon returning. A common occurrence."

"I hear Viserys has appointed Daemon his Master of Coin." Father said, looking up from his bowl of oats and almond milk.

Mother sighed. "A folly. Daemon is a most mercurial man with no interest in governance beyond the privileges given. I give him one year at most before he gets bored of it."

I ate my shepherd pie in silence as Father and Mother continued their talks. If there was anyone who could gossip more than washerwomen, it would be the highborns of Westeros.

"Many men have tried to give Daemon something to do." Father said. "I'm sure one of them would succeed eventually. Honestly, I believe he'll do much better staying in Runestone and helping manage his wife's lands. Perhaps participate in jousts as well. He had the talent for it."

"If they ever get along, mayhaps. As it is, there's a higher chance of Daemon pushing the Vale into secession with his sheer number of insults than him reconciling with Rhea."

From what I heard of my parents, Prince Daemon had the reputation of a ne'er-do-well whose only concern was to amuse himself and disdained any rules of nobility. While that made him unpopular among his peers, his reputation was better among the smallfolk.

They probably found him more approachable than the high and mighty lords of Westeros.

Personally, I didn't even see what the problem was. As long as he didn't act like Maegor had come again, I saw no reason why anyone should care. Had Daemon been the second son of the Strongs, I doubted anyone would care about him.

Oh right. Unless Queen Aemma gave King Viserys a son, Daemon would likely be our next king. I supposed that was reason enough to be concerned.

I put down my fork and knife. "Father. Mother. I had finished my dinner. Will you allow me to pray in the sept?"

Father glanced at me. "It's quite early. Can't you pray in your room, or wait until it's brighter?"

I shrugged. "I found the best time to pray is at night and dawn. Don't worry so much, father; I remember my way here."

Mother considered it for a moment. "I'll send two guards with you. I will not have you lose your way in the dark of the morning."

"That's acceptable, Mother."

The sept was empty when the youngest Velaryon found himself there.

Not even a septon to tend the place. I thought.

Erwin and Heward, the two guards my mother sent with me, followed me inside, though they made sure to give me a wide berth.

Good. I didn't like to share the space when I prayed.

The royal Sept was obviously smaller than the Great Sept of King's Landing, though no less furnished. Instead, it created a quiet, comforting atmosphere. I found the smaller septs to be more comforting than the larger ones with their cavernous halls and oversized stained glass windows.

I remembered the first time I visited a Sept. I had no knowledge of the faith at the time, so I asked the Septon if they worshipped the Seven Gods. The septon had softly rebuked me then.

No, they were not seven gods, but one God with seven aspects.

I was amused at witnessing his difficulty in trying to explain the concept to such a young child in more understandable terms. He couldn't have known that he hadn't needed to trouble himself.

The concept was not completely unfamiliar to me. Some religions in my previous life followed similar doctrines.

Much like those religions, the Seven also came with a lot of rules. Some were reasonable enough. Love your family. Love your neighbors. Don't steal. Don't rape. All the rules necessary for a harmonious society to function. The problem came when it went to oddly specific laws or such.

Why were they so obsessed with number seven anyway?

It was an interesting experience, at least. Learning a completely new religion. And useful too. The lords of Westeros weren't as religious as what I'd expected from a medieval society, and yet a great many of them were still of the faithful sort, and aspects of the Faith were ubiquitous in everyday lives.

I lit a candle for each of the Seven save for the Stranger. It was considered tempting fate to pray for the Stranger unless for matters related to death, and I was content with not having anything to share with Him for now. Once that was finished, I kneeled in the middle of the room.

"I still wonder why I am here." I whispered.

This was a familiar topic between me and the gods. If they were real, they'd likely be tired of me by now. I was hoping I could hassle them enough to give me an answer eventually, or at least a sign.

"You gave me a second chance. Did you see something in me? Did you wish for me to do something for you? Is this a reward for something I did before?"

It was frustrating. My previous memories were intact except for near the end, which left me bewildered. I remembered everything except how I ended up in this body.

"Were you even real? Was someone else responsible for me being here?"

There were many gods in the world. My previous world had at least thousands, and this world had thousands more. Anyone of them could be the one responsible, and I have no easy way to know.

"Whatever your reason is, know that I'm grateful for you."

"I have no deep regret in my previous life, nor a great sin I need to atone for. To be granted a second life is a luxury."

My previous life might be unglamorous, but it wasn't full of sorrows either. My precious self was simply a man.

I've always felt undeserving of my second life, ever since my memories awakened. Like a man given a great reward for someone else's great deed.

"Whatever your plan, know this. I will not waste my second chance at life given to me."

I rose from my knees and looked up at the statue of the Father.

"May that life be a worthy one."

The ceremony was a solemn affair.

King Jaehaerys' body was laid on top of the pyre. His body was covered with red and black silken shrouds, and his face with a golden mask. A steel sword was clasped in his hands.

The High Septon talked at length about the Old King's deeds. Of the peace he brought between the Faith and the Crown, of the wealth and prosperity he brought to the realm. Afterward, he uttered several prayers from the Seven-Pointed Star to the gods as the mourners—those who were not crying—watched in silence. Even Prince Daemon had a contemplative look instead of his usual disinterest.

Once that was finished, King Viserys took a torch and threw it into the pyre, and soon the wood was consumed by the flames.

Perhaps it'd be better if a dragon was the one to light the fire. Unfortunately, King Viserys' dragon, Balerion, the black dread, had died of old age many years ago.

We watched as the fires leapt and rose ever higher, until they consumed everything and left nothing of my great-grandfather except for ash and cinders.

We stayed for a few more weeks in the Red Keep.

The actual coronation would be held 35 days after King Jaehaerys' funeral to give time for the more distant lords to travel to King's Landing. During our stay, we witnessed many lords who came from all the Seven Kingdoms to make obeisance to their new king, from the southernmost Reach to the northernmost North.

And yet some lords were still late for the ceremony anyway, because the realm was simply so large that there were places that required more than one month to reach King's Landing.

In the meantime, Father kept bringing me and my siblings to meet this lord and that lady. They praised us for our looks and intelligence, and we praised them for their honor and justice. Then we continued to the next set of lords and ladies.

Some of their faces started blurring together in my mind.

We also became closer to Princess Rhaenyra, who became a common companion for me and my siblings during our stay.

She introduced us to her friend Alicent Hightower, the daughter of the Hand of the King Otto Hightower. My impression of her was a beautiful and courteous young girl, though she was older than any of us.

We also saw Prince Daemon plenty of times, though often at irregular hours, and he usually looked either bored or irate, depending on whether there was a Small Council meeting or not.

Rhaenyra and Alicent usually brushed away my question of why Prince Daemon always looked annoyed, claiming it was the burden caused by his duty.

Father told me Daemon disliked Otto, and the feeling was mutual.

That didn't sound like the ideal working condition. I sympathize with King Viserys' position. I knew how it felt to work with people who hated each other.

On the bright side, at least the king could take solace in the fact that it was unlikely for his advisors to start anything beyond barbed words.

The day of the coronation finally arrived, and what a majestic experience it was.

All lords of the realm came to renew their bonds of fealty before the Iron Throne. The monument to Targaryen's triumph, made from the blades of thousands of defeated enemies, melted in dragonfire.

It was massive, imposing, and, more importantly, looked uncomfortable.

One by one, the representatives of each noble house in Westeros kneeled before the throne and swore their loyalty to King Viserys. From the Starks in the north to the Tyrells in the south. Even Lord Greyjoy was present, though he looked the most reluctant of all to swear his oaths.

Once that was done, King Viserys the first of his name rose and proclaimed his intent to continue his grandfather's legacy and build an even more prosperous realm, to the polite cheers and applause of the nobility.

After that, there were the lavish festivities.

They brought a peacock roasted in its plumage, ribs braised and simmered in red wine, a whole suckling pig roasted over charcoal, tender ducks soaked in walnut sauce, and many, many more. Servants walked to and fro carrying fried bream cut into finger-sized fillets, trout baked in clay, and crab soup. Platters of spinach salad and soft cheese, and trays of cinnamon wafers and almond cakes. The bounties of Westeros were on full display on the king's table, as he made a point to incorporate the cuisines of all his kingdoms for the feast.

Free bread, cheese, and ale were also provided for the citizens of King's Landing, who toasted for the reign of King Viserys and his health.

The only thing missing was a tourney, and yet the king had decreed there would be no tourney for his coronation as he deemed it was too early for such an occasion.

A pity. I always wanted to see a real joust.

The celebration continued as the nobility of Westeros drank and ate their fill until nightfall.

Whenever Father didn't bring me to meet any of the lords, I usually went with Laenor and Laena to the city. We had visited the dragonpit and seen the dragons there. We've seen the pale Dreamfyre and Princess Rhaenyra's golden dragon, Syrax. The most interesting, however, was Prince Daemon's dragon. Caraxes the blood wyrm, which used to be ridden by my grandfather, Prince Aemon.

Considering my mother's dragon used to belong to Prince Daemon's mother, I wonder if there was a story behind them.

I wanted to see Vermithor as well, though the dragon of King Jaehaerys apparently lived in Dragonstone, together with Queen Alysanne's dragon Silverwing.

I wasn't a bard, but if I were one, I'd likely make a song or two about it.

Laena, meanwhile, wanted to see Vhagar most of all, though unfortunately, we hadn't had the chance. Vhagar was too big to stay inside the dragonpit and thus spent her time either staying just outside the city walls or wandering somewhere else. The dragonkeepers told us she was often seen flying above the Kingswood to hunt.

When we weren't watching dragons, we wandered the streets and market of King's Landing to see its many sights. Laena oft brought me to the street of Loom, where the finest clothes in the Seven Kingdoms were offered. Despite her best attempts at explaining whatever was the latest fashion of Westeros to me, most of it just passed from one ear to the next.

Laenor was most interested in small curiosities from distant lands. He was planning to build a small collection of foreign novelties, apparently, and I often saw him looking at water clocks and fine ceramic statuettes made in foreign style.

I personally was most interested in weapons and armour, and often dragged out my siblings to the Street of Steel, where we might see master smiths working on a cuirass or a mace and whatnot, which usually earned me a huff of exasperation or bemusement from either of my siblings.

At least our guards tended to share my interest. They made their livelihood from their steel, after all.

It was on one such day that I and Laena chanced upon the discovery of our lifetime.

It was just the two of us as Father brought Laenor to meet the Graftons. The Lords of Gulltown controlled the largest city in the Vale and were a frequent trading partner of ours.

I was busy working on a small fritter when we noticed a large shadow passing overhead. Some people looked up, but none paid it any mind. The sight was a common one in the city, after all.

I knew what it was, of course. It was hard to mistake her for something else. I poked at my sister, who was busy comparing one sapphire necklace with another.

"Hey, Laena, do you still want to see Vhagar?"

"So that was Vhagar," Laena said with more than a little awe in her voice.

I could certainly understand her awe. Before us was the dragon of Queen Visenya, the oldest and largest living dragon in the world. The last living creature who had seen the conquest.

Though the impression was slightly muted since she was sleeping curled like an oversized cat. We could even hear her snores.

The dragon had coppery scales (or was it bronze?) with strange blue gleams. There was no way to describe her size. My mother's dragon, Meleys, already made all land creatures look small in comparison, and Vhagar made her look small.

The fact that she could still fly was another proof of the existence of magic. A creature of that size should struggle to even walk.

"Vhagar, jurnegon īlva!" Laena shouted.

The sudden shout startled me, and I must admit I was nervous when Vhagar opened an eye and looked at us with some interest before she went back to her nap.

I could see our guards were very alarmed when Vhagar actually responded to Laena's shout. This couldn't be good for their hearts.

"She seems responsive to my words. Do you think she'll let me ride her?" Laena asked

"Don't be stupid, Laena." I said. "One can only ride dragons by claiming one. You know what that means, don't you?"

She pouted. "Well, maybe Vhagar wants someone to claim her? It must be lonely for her to be all alone outside."

I thought that was absurd, and told her as much. All the living Targaryens already claimed a dragon, and Vhagar was likely kept for the crown prince once he was born.

I needed to all but drag Laena back to the Red Keep after that, and I thought that would be the end of it.

The next morning, I was awoken by my father and mother barging into our room and demanding an explanation.

An explanation for what?

Mother simply pointed out the window, and it didn't take me long before I saw Vhagar flying above the city.

Worse yet, I could see a young girl atop her.

Gods dammit.

The next few days were best described as hectic.

As I predicted, Laena's claim of Vhagar brought a host of problems. Chief among them was the threat to Targaryen's power.

It was dragons that allowed the Targaryen to conquer the realm, and it was their monopoly of dragons that allowed them to keep their power. I recalled that it was something of an issue when Laenor managed to hatch a dragon, as that signaled that the Velaryons had the capability to match the Targaryens. I didn't remember how the issue was settled at the time, but Laenor was allowed to keep Seasmoke at least, and no one was executed to my knowledge.

Except Vhagar was a different beast entirely compared to a hatchling like Seasmoke back then.

King Jaehaerys threatened a war over three dragon eggs. What would King Viserys threaten over the mightiest living dragon?

As for Father and Mother, They—once their anger finally cooled down—were happy for Laena, though their happiness was laced with worry. They spent a lot more time speaking with various courtiers behind closed doors, and we barely saw them during the day.

Laena and Laenor though, were surprisingly indifferent about the whole affair. Laena was simply excited about having her own dragon, and Laenor was happy for her.

It never crossed my mind how those two were genuinely younger than I was. Even the most well-educated and well-behaved children could lose all sense when they were given a new pet. And that's what dragons were to them. A very big pet.

However, all our concern was proven to be for naught, as King Viserys simply allowed Laena to take the dragon, to the surprise of everyone.

Apparently he had no concern that the largest living dragon, one who used to be ridden by his own father no less, was claimed by another house. His reasoning was that nothing could sever the bond between a rider and his dragon save for death, and it was best that Vhagar remained in the hands of his kin instead of staying alone.

I suspected there was more than that, but if that was the king's command, so be it.

"Are you sure of this, Viserys?" Daemon asked his brother.

The Velaryons' ships just left King's Landing harbor this noon with all members of the house, with the exception of Rhaenys and Laena. Laena needed to fly with Vhagar to Driftmark and Rhaenys opted to accompany her as she was inexperienced with her dragon.

"You know my reasoning, Daemon." Viserys said, his eyes still focused on whatever document he was reading.

"I still think you're being too indulgent with them."

The truth was, the Velaryons already possessed more dragons than the Targaryens. Combined with their fleet and wealth, they could prove a great threat if they chose to oppose the Iron Throne.

He knew that Viserys knew that, though frustratingly, his brother refused to curtail them. He was convinced that he could still keep the Velaryons in line.

"Mayhaps, though it would be too late to stop them now. Perhaps it has been too late ever since the moment Laenor hatched his egg." Viserys said as he put his seal on the parchment.

"Are you going to let every house that married us take their own dragons, then? Will the Arryns and Baratheons be next? Whose turn after them? The Celtigars? The Freys?" Daemon pressed.

Viserys finally looked up from his papers to regard his brother.

"Of course not. I'm already formulating a new law with my good Master of Law that will forbid any Targaryen who married outside the family to hatch dragon eggs and their descendants to claim dragons. It's only a matter of choosing the right wording before we put the law to ink."

"As for the Velaryons," Viserys continued, "There's no easy way to stop them from becoming dragonlords as they hatched and claimed their dragons before the law was made. Removing their dragons will require war, and I have no intention to fall into kinslaying over paranoia."

Daemon looked at his crowned brother skeptically. "So you will let them be?"

Viserys shook his head. "No. I intend to keep them bound to us through subtler means. Diplomacy, marriage pacts, and alliances. A second house of dragonlords who's loyal to us could prove to be a boon in the future."

Daemon snorted. If everything could be solved with words, all knights in the realm would live as paupers. And empowering another house to the point they could rival the royal house? That was a tragedy waiting to happen.

Viserys always had a habit of ignoring problems until they grew big enough to stare at him in the eyes. He'd just need to help his brother clean up the mess if the need came, as usual.

"However," Viserys' voice broke Daemon's contemplation. "That's not the reason why I summoned you here."

"How's the state of the Treasury after my coronation, brother? I gave you the ledger some three days ago."

An uncomfortable silence filled the room.

AN: Hello. First, thank you for all the reviews, follows, and favorites! I honestly didn't expect such amount of support for my first fic. I'd be grateful for a couple of follows and reviews for the first chapter.

Now that we're finally done establishing the important players, the next chapter will start picking up the pace.

I originally wasn't planning to add the part of Laena claiming Vhagar. However, since Laena seemed to claim Vhagar around 103 AC I thought might as well.

Speaking of, Laena said something like "Vhagar, look at us." In High Valyrian.

Also, yes, Daemon was the Master of Coin from 103-104 AC.

Reviews are always welcome!